


Broken Hearted

by MsChievous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lil' bit of smut, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Poor Prompto, but it's not graphic, it's more referenced than anything else, teeniest tiniest bit of smut, well not entirely implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 23:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous
Summary: Written for the FFXV Kinkmeme:I know it's mean but I'd like to read something where Noctis and Prompto start relationship BUT... Noctis suddenly realises that he doesn't feel any sexual attraction for Prompto. He loves him but not in that way.He is disgusted by the only idea but he doesn't know how to tell him without hurting him (even because he knows how much he used to hate his body).+ Prompto thinking it's all his fault because he's too self-conscious and trying to act more seductive+++++ One day Noctis decides to have try. Maybe he'll like it however. They start having sex and Prompto is overwhelmed by joy but... Noct suddenly stops in the middle because he has puke.It's cruel I know, but I'm too curious about itI was curious too. And I wrote a thing.





	Broken Hearted

**Author's Note:**

> Okay fam. Real talk: I don’t really like romance-y stuff. IDK why this prompt spoke to me, since it’s really involved in romance, but here we are (maybe just to spread my Ace!Noctis headcanons over all of you unfortunate saps). So it might be stilted and awkward. Just let me know, and I’ll do my best to fix it up Without further ado, enjoy the angst train (with interspersed romance because yay).

Normally, Prompto leaves Noctis’ apartment before it gets dark, so he can walk home safely, but as it was now almost midnight, it’s obvious Prompto had other intentions. Noctis, in turn, invited Prompto to sleep over, maybe play a few rounds of a new game he had gotten, then they could go to sleep.

Ha. “Go to sleep”. What a joke. 

Prompto had slid into bed next to Noctis, who worked to contain a wave of… what was this feeling exactly? Disapproval? Sadness? He doesn’t tell Prompto to get into bed with him, but Prompto obviously takes the offer of a sleepover that way.  Noctis doesn’t want to say something, for fear of upsetting him, and because he’s probably overreacting anyway.

“G’night.” He mumbles, turning so his back faces Prompto.

“What, don’t I get a good night kiss?” Prompto asks. His tone is light and joking as always, but Noctis can hear the disappointment hidden underneath. 

“Of course you do.” Noctis hides his momentary aversion at the thought and shifts to give Prompto a quick peck on the lips. 

“One more, for luck?” Prompto’s voice is hopeful, and Noctis feels like shit for not wanting to make out as well. He’s obviously missing something, if Prompto is this excited about it. Never mind that the thought of exchanging saliva with _ Prompto _ feels wrong. Like, kissing a sibling. Maybe he just needs to try it out. Be brave.

For Prompto.

Noctis turns to face Prompto, plastering a coy smile on his lips. “All you need to do is ask, babe.” The words feel awkward and clumsy, but maybe he just needs practice. Practice makes perfect, after all.

Prompto’s arms wrap around Noctis’ shoulder, but he doesn’t mind. Prompto’s closeness felt natural. Comforting. But then Prompto’s mouth is on his, and Noctis has to bite back a shudder. Their teeth click together awkwardly as their lips meet, and Prompto smiles into the kiss, pulling back slightly.

“I think we need to work on the kissing, Noct.”

Six, he can’t do this for much longer. “Can we practice in the morning? I’m really tired.” He tries to keep his tone light, and like he’s not dreading the morning more than usual, but from the way Prompto’s face falls that he didn’t entirely succeed.

“I mean, if you really want to keep going, then let’s do it,” Noctis desperately wishes that Prompto will refuse, but knows that he probably won’t.

“A-are you sure?” Prompto tries to keep the excitement out of his voice, but he’s just as bad at hiding his emotions as Noctis is. “I don’t want to force you or anything.”

And that’s why Noctis nods his head emphatically. Because Prompto genuinely wants to do it, but not if Noctis doesn’t. He obviously just wants to show Noctis how much he means to him, and Noctis is just too squeamish to let him. He just needs to get used to it, then maybe he’ll like it too. Hopefully.

 

* * *

 

Noctis has never been more grateful for sleep’s sweet embrace than he is right now. After a solid two minutes of awkward kissing, Prompto had broken off, leaning his forehead against Noct’s breathlessly. 

“Wow, that… that was pretty great. Do…” He pauses, takes a deep breath to steel himself, then plunges onward, “Do you want to go...further?” His eyes are wide, eyebrows upturned slightly. Noctis feels like saying no would be like kicking a puppy, but he  _ really _ doesn’t feel up to that right now.

“No, I’m sorry Prompto. I’m just really tired.”

“Oh. Okay.” Noctis can tell that Prompto is trying to hide his disappointment, for Noctis’ sake, and it just makes him feel worse.

“Maybe later,” He promises instead, “Good night.”

“‘Night.”

 

* * *

 

Prompto wants to kick himself. Of  _ course _ he shouldn’t have expected Noctis to be that into him. He’s seen himself in a mirror: he’s not that impressive. Not as impressive as Noctis is.  _ His _ face is breathtaking, his laugh is light and airy, and his kindness knows few bounds. It’s a miracle he gives Prompto the time of day.

But Noctis says he enjoys Prompto’s company. They hold hands, they cuddle during movie nights, they practically feed each other during lunch time. All the things couples would do. But until about a week ago, Noctis didn’t want to kiss. For the first few days, Prompto thought his breath stank, so he used way too much mouthwash after every meal. Then, Prompto came to the more logical (in his opinion) conclusion that Noctis just thought he deserved something better, and he started pulling away. 

That was when Noctis started being more intimate. Little touches that trailed up Prompto’s arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Quick pecks on the cheek between classes. Deep, comforting hugs at the end of a school day. Prompto allowed himself to think that maybe Noctis just takes a while. After all, he has to be careful with his feelings and emotions. 

And just two days ago, when the two of them had been relaxing in the garden after lunch, Noctis had made the first move. He had turned to face Prompto, a look of determination etched on his face, placed his hands on either side of Prompto’s face, and then quite literally  _ smashed _ their faces together.

It’s both laughable and painful to think about. Their noses had squashed against each other, and their top teeth clacked together painfully. Noctis had immediately jerked away with one hand on his mouth, swearing loudly. 

“Ah, shit! Gods- sorry, Prompto. I- I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t worry about it!” He had paused, trying to think how he could salvage the situation. He knew he had to be charming and suave. Sexy. “It just means that we need to practice more. Will you practice with me?”

He knew that the look on his face probably wasn’t the most inviting, no matter how hard he tried. But,  _ damn _ did he try.

Noctis had giggled, but he had drawn back, cutting off any further attempts. Of course. One kiss, and Noctis knew there was nothing special about him. Nothing worth falling in love with.

 

* * *

 

The next few days are some of the more awkward ones of their (admittedly short) relationship. Prompto tries to keep his distance from Noctis, allow him room to breathe, but Noctis still pushes close to him, small, nearly discreet touches here and there and electrify Prompto’s skin. It feels so right, and Prompto has to swallow back the desire to kiss him right then and there.

It takes some time, but slowly, the discomfort irons itself out. When Prompto thinks the awkwardness has passed, he asks Noct out on a date. Their second official date since they started calling each other their “boyfriend”.

Noctis pauses for a second, and Prompto’s afraid that he’ll say no. After all, a movie date is pretty lame. But Prompto thinks that Noctis won’t have to look at him, just at a theater screen, and they’ll be sitting next to each other. Close. Prompto could “accidentally” brush up against Noctis’ hand, and-

“Sure. Sounds like fun,” Noctis cuts off Prompto’s train of thought. Excitement rushes through him. 

“Sweet! I’ll get the tickets. Meet you there at around 6?” Prompto tries to bite down on the excitement, but he can tell from the way Noctis laughs that he doesn’t entirely succeed. 

“Sure,” Noctis grins, and Prompto’s heart hammers at the sight. His face is scrunched up and his eyes half-closed, but it’s the most beautiful face Prompto has ever seen. He allows himself to relax. Of course Noctis likes him. If he didn’t, why would he claim to be Prompto’s boyfriend?

He stares into Noctis’s-  _ his boyfriend’s _ \- eyes, and allows himself to get lost in their beautiful blue.

 

* * *

 

A movie date. He can do this. It’s not a cheesy romance movie, it’s not gonna be super late at night, they’ll just go in, see a movie, talk about it for five hours, and then part ways. Maybe. Maybe Prompto will want to stay over. Noctis is torn between hope that Prompto will stay and hope that he goes. Because Noctis really does love Prompto’s company: his warmth, his inability to keep his mouth shut, his dorky hairstyle that he insists on keeping. He loves it all. 

But then he knows that Prompto wants to kiss. Make out. Or more. Prompto rarely vocalizes it outside of a small, “Can I kiss you?”, which Noctis used to turn down but tries hard not to any more. But even if Prompto doesn’t vocalize it, Noctis can tell what he wants, and it hurts him to deny him. After all, what does he know about kissing and sex and everything? He can barely watch sex scenes on T.V. He barely has any idea how to  _ do _ it. 

Prompto’s obviously saddened that Noctis doesn’t want to do anything besides cuddle, and it hurts that he’s the one who’s constantly saying “no” in the relationship. The buzzkill. He tries to convince himself that he just needs to try it out some more, get used to the sensation, but his body balks at the idea. He needs to get used to that too.

 

* * *

 

The date starts out well. They share a large popcorn and before the movie, they’re mindlessly chatting away. Then the movie starts, and Prompto’s hand nervously glides across Noctis’. Noctis glances over, nods, and allows Prompto’s hand to hold his. It’s cute, how nervous he is, and Noctis has to bite down a laugh, because the movie is getting serious. He turns his attention back to the action.

It’s some time later that Prompto’s hand drops Noctis’. But instead of going back to his lap, Prompto’s hand trails towards Noctis’ knee. An odd choice, but Noctis doesn’t mind. Until Prompto’s hand starts to trail up, slowly. His hand is halfway up Noctis’ thigh, starting to slowly curve inside, when Noctis places a hand on Prompto’s wrist. He tries to be gentle, but a panic makes him rougher than he wants. 

“Prompto, we’re in public, and the movie’s getting good.” Noctis whispers, drawing Prompto’s hand off to the side.

“Ah, sorry. I should have asked.” Prompto jerks his hand out of Noctis’ grasp and tucks it between his knees. By the light of the movie screen, Noctis can make out Prompto flushing. 

He pecks Prompto on the cheek. Quick and clean, in and out. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

* * *

 

Prompto worries about it.

 

He barely pays attention to the rest of the movie, overthinking every single he made. He should have asked Noctis, but he didn’t know how to phrase the request that didn’t make him sound like a horny kid. So he just didn’t ask. How fucking  _ stupid _ of him. How  _ irresponsible _ . 

Noctis kisses him on the cheek, and Prompto can’t help but feel worse. It’s pretty clear that Noctis only kissed him to make him feel better. 

Prompto has to get to his feet and leave, claiming a bathroom break in order to keep from spiraling down into self-hatred. He needs to walk around, talk to himself, get a breath of fresh air. Anything except sitting in a dark room with the object of his anxiety literally right next to him.

The hallway outside their theater is empty, and it gives him time to breathe and adjust to the light as he begins his slow walk to the bathroom. He tries to convince himself that it’s no big deal, everyone makes mistakes, his is just a little bigger than most. But something in the back of his mind tells him that he’s ruined everything. How can he not notice Noctis isn’t into him? That he’s only humoring Prompto for some cruel joke, or, more likely and _much_ worse, out of pity. Prompto hates pity. He sees it in the faces of his neighbors, who know about his less-than-ideal familial situation, and he  _ hates  _ that look.

_ No. _ He tells himself,  _ No, I’m overthinking this, and I’m wrong. Noctis loves me. He’s the prince, and he’s blunt. If he didn’t like me, he’d tell me. He wouldn’t want to cuddle and hold hands on everything. Calm down, it will all be fine. He probably just doesn’t like doing things in public.  _

_ Yeah, that must be it… Please. _

 

* * *

 

It’s dark when the movie finally ends. They make the snap decision to sleep over at Noctis’ apartment again. They don’t want to walk home alone, nor do they want to bother Ignis, so instead, they intertwine their hands and walk down the street, arguing about the finer points of the movie. 

“I’m just saying, the cinematography could use some work. They tried to be way too artsy, and it just didn’t work.” 

“‘Too artsy’? Isn’t that a little hypocritical, coming from you?” Noctis lightly bumps his elbow into Prompto’s side.

“I am  _ hurt _ !” Prompto’s face drops in mock horror. “I don’t know if I can go on!” He stops short and falls to his knees, making gasping noises before falling onto his side, nearly pulling Noctis along with him.

After a few motionless seconds, Noctis’ patience runs out. “Okay. Well, bye Prompto. Nice knowing ya.”

“Wait! Wait, no, I’m better now.” Prompto scrambles wildly to his feet and lurches as Noctis, who catches him easily. “I just needed a few seconds.”

“Uh-huh.” Noctis tries to hide his amusement, but fails. Prompto is just too funny sometimes. 

“Yeah.” He says matter-of-factly, “After I die, it takes a few seconds to regenerate. Because,  _ surprise! _ I’m an alien.” 

“That  _ would  _ account for the blonde hair and the odd personality.” Noctis hums. 

They both break into peals of laughter, continuing down the main street towards Noctis’ apartment. It’s a long walk, but they make it feel shorter by talking, and before either of them know it, they’re riding the elevator to Noctis’ room while discussing the likelihood of a theory about a show they both watch. 

Instead of popping in a movie like they usually do, they kick back in the couch and continue talking. And talking. And talking. Honestly, Noctis doesn’t even remember the last time he talked this much. With  _ anyone _ . And though he hates socialization, and talking, and people, with Prompto, it all feels so  _ right _ .

So when Prompto scoots slightly closer, he just nods and motions for the blond to come even closer, so they’re practically on top of each other. 

He just needs to take a deep breath and let himself go, make himself enjoy it. He can do this.

“D’you wanna kiss?” The words feel awkward in his mouth, but the look of delight in Prompto’s face makes Noctis feel light as a feather.

“You sure?” Prompto asks the question like he would ask someone who just offered him a million dollars: uncertain, but desperate.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” And he means it. He desperately wants to figure out what’s so  _ great _ about kissing and making love. Prompto seems only too willing to show him.

 

* * *

 

It’s past midnight, and Noctis and Prompto are intertwined on the couch, exchanging small pecks and deeper kisses between whatever the hell they’re talking about. Neither one can quite keep track. Prompto, because he’s flooded with happiness at finally being in Noctis’ arms like this. Noctis, because he’s trying to swallow his continual dread.

So maybe he doesn’t like kissing. Cool. Now he knows.

So he pulls away from Prompto. So kissing is a no-go, but maybe sex will go better? He’s always heard how good sex feels, and masturbation  _ definitely _ feels good, so he probably just has to try it out. Hopefully, it’ll work out better than kissing.

“Do…” his voice trails off awkwardly, and he immediately realizes he can’t make fun of Prompto for stumbling over his words of affection. “Do you wanna do… more?” Gods, why can’t he just ask it outright?

Prompto’s eyes are wide, and his mouth drops with a sound like a cat whose tail has been stepped on. “D-Do I..? Gods Noctis, do you really mean it?” There’s so much hope in his eyes that Noctis couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to say no. He wanted to try it out, see how it felt.

“Are you sure, though? I-I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you. Because I’m cool with just, like-”

“Prompto,” Noctis’ voice is light, calming, “I  _ do _ want to. You’re not forcing me. I promise.”

“O-okay. Okay, let’s do it. Here? Or do you want to do it on your bed?” Prompto’s voice wavers, and Noctis can practically  _ feel _ him vibrating with excitement. 

“W-well, I...I don’t know much… about, well, about anything.” Noctis’ face is flushed as he admits this. “I don’t really know what…” He trails off, eyes skidding to the ground.

“What, you’ve never watched porn or anything?” Prompto asks, disbelieving.

Noctis just shakes his head, ashamed. What kind of boyfriend  _ is _ he? Prompto’s the one who has to take up all the slack. 

“Wow, so you’re, like, a mega-virgin or something. Wow,” Prompto pauses, his own furious blush evident, even in the low lighting, “Well, I’ll make sure this feels good. Okay?”

And Prompto doesn’t lie. It feels  _ really _ good. Better than his hand. But beside that pleasure, there’s a roiling sickness in his gut. Every time he thinks about where Prompto’s mouth is, or the sounds he’s making, Noctis has to swallow back a bit more bile. It’s so dirty and disgusting and gross and no, no this is wrong, so wrong, he’s gonna-

Noctis barely has time to push Prompto out of the way before he’s on his hands and knees, stomach’s protests finally being heeded. He empties the contents of his stomach, purging his body of the foreign sensations. His arms are weak as he pushes himself back to sit on his heels. 

Meanwhile, Prompto is worriedly rubbing circles in his back, “Holy shit, Noct, if you were feeling sick, we didn’t have to-”

“Stop.” Noctis’ voice is tired as he wraps his arms around his torso. “This needs to stop.”

“Wh-what are you talking about? Are you okay?” 

Noctis can’t even look up. “You and me. That, what we just did. That needs to stop. I-I...I just can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry.”

A stunned silence fills the space between them before Prompto scrambles back. “Oh….oh! I-I’m sorry. I...I guess I’ll just leave then?” His voice is heavy with held-back tears.

“Yeah. Bye.”

Noctis doesn’t move until Prompto shuts the door behind him. Then he gets to his feet and stumbles over to the shower. He knows he made a big mistake in not listening to his instincts, and now Prompto was hurt.

_ Way to fucking be, asshole. _

 

* * *

 

Prompto tries not to cry on his way back. He really does. After all, it’s not a huge surprise that Noctis isn’t into him, but to have the object of his affections actually  _ barf _ during a blowjob was something else. Something worse than a punch to the gut. What was worse than a punch to the gut? A stab in the back? Maybe.

Somehow, Prompto manages to stumble home without incident. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s a little disappointed that he didn’t manage to get run over by a car or trip down a large flight of stairs. Something to just end it all. He should just end it all.

He shakes his head from the thought. He can’t think like that, it’s not healthy. He  _ knows _ it’s not healthy. Those thoughts haven’t shown up for nearly a year, a year of forced positive thoughts, therapy sessions, and discomfort, and it’s all for naught. He slumps against the front door, sobs starting to leak out in earnest. 

He can’t quite capture what he’s feeling right now, since “heartbreak” doesn’t quite capture it. After all, can someone break your heart if they never wanted it in the first place?

He feels like one of those iffy diners that are open at one in the morning. You don’t go there because it’s particularly (or even slightly) good, you just go there because it’s better than starving, and it’s open. 

It’s that kind of desperation that has him reaching for the knife. He closes his hands around it, but can’t seem to draw it across his wrist. He should be happy about that, that his counselling has worked, but he just wants a release from the pain. But he’s not even sure that cutting will help, so he sets the knife down with shaking hands. He needs to do something, mark his skin with  _ something _ to deal with this inner anguish.

He remembers his counsellor’s suggestions from months ago, and grabs a felt-tip marker instead. He runs the tip up and down his arm. Originally, he starts to play connect-the-dots with his freckles, but his hand presses the tip of the marker deeper into his skin as his sketches turn wild and angry. Gods, this isn’t working, he needs the knife.

He pauses before cutting into his skin. His wristband is thinner now, it can’t hide his pathetic vice, so he has to be creative: What part of his body would no one get to see? 

He hurries to kick off his pants, stumbling over to the bathroom where the tiles would make it easier to clean up the blood. He settles himself against the cabinets and makes the first cut.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, his leg is sore, but he just tells people he hit his thigh against the sharp edge of his counter, and people seem to accept it. He doesn’t know whether he’s sad or relieved that no one wants to pry, to make sure he’s  _ really _ alright. Usually, that’s Noctis’ job, but Noctis has been avoiding his eyes since he got there, and Prompto doesn’t have the guts to go up and say anything. So he regales himself to being alone. Again.

The thought prickles at the corner of his brain and he forces himself to shut it down. He can’t think of that right now. He sits down in his usual seat and opens his phone, just looking for any kind of distraction. 

A finger pokes his back, and he turns around. The kid behind him, Prompto can’t remember his name, leans forward.

“Hey, you and Noct fighting or something?”

Prompto rolls his eyes to keep his embarrassment in check. “Why would you say that?” He tries to sound bored, but from the kid’s expression, it doesn’t quite work.

“Class starts in two minutes and you aren’t half on top of each other. It’s just weird is all. If you’re fighting, I’ve heard not talking makes it worse. That’s what my ma said, anyway,” The kid says. “And hey, if you need a new boyfriend, I think you’re pretty cute.”

Prompto flushes furiously and turns around in his seat, spluttering his thanks. He can never date that kid. They’ve been in the same class for nearly four months, and Prompto doesn’t know his name. At this point, he can’t ask. Maybe he can be surreptitious about it: take him to Starbucks or have him put his own contact information in. 

But before Prompto can screw up the courage to ask him, the teacher walks in, and class starts.

 

* * *

 

It’s the dreaded hour of lunchtime. Prompto stands hesitantly, lunch bag in hand. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed to sit in front of Noctis like they do usually, or if Noctis even wants to eat in the same room as him.

Noctis answers his worries by standing up and walking up to Prompto. He leans in close and mutters, “We need to talk. Let’s go to the roof.”

Prompto nods and follows his… friend? Boyfriend? He’s honestly not sure… up to the roof. It’s thankfully empty, and Noctis and Prompto sit with their backs to the chain link fence. A voice in the back of his head tells him to climb the fence and throw himself off, but he ignores that thought, as if it’s one of the kids that used to bully him when he was fat. It was easier to ignore that way.

“So…” Noctis starts. “I-I made a mistake. And I’m sorry.”

Prompto furrows his brows, sure he’s heard wrong. “What are you sorry for? I-I-I pressured you to have sex! It’s my fault!” 

“You didn’t pressure me. I asked because I was curious and wanted to try it out. I thought I was gonna hate it, and I did. A lot. Obviously. If I had just  _ listened _ to my gut, I wouldn’t have hurt you like that.”

The words  _ hate _ and  _ a lot _ echoed around in his head, and Prompto suddenly felt hollow. Of course. It seemed so obvious now. Noctis hates Prompto, and only keeps him around for some personal reason. He should have picked up on the cues, the reluctance to kiss, to have sex, the “requests” for more cuddles. He should have figured that Noctis didn’t like him  _ that way _ .

“Ah. I’m sorry. I...I didn’t realize that you… you think that. I...I had a different impression, a-and I guess I just assumed that we…. that you and I-” Prompto gets to his feet. He needs to move, to get away from here. It’s the movie theater all over again. “I’m sorry I disgust you. But I can change, if you want!“

“Wha- gods, Prompto!” Noctis looks shocked, and maybe a little hurt, and Prompto almost hits himself for making Noctis hurt. “No, you don’t disgust me! Gods, I spend like half of my day with you. But…I dunno, the whole sex thing, just feels  _ wrong _ . And it’s not just you!” Noctis hurries to explain. “I just hate the thought of sex. Doing it, seeing it done,  _ hearing _ it done, it all just sucks.”

Prompto pauses in his pacing. “Oh, so you’re an asexual or something? Like, sex-repulsed?”

“What’s an asexual?” Noctis is confused, with eyebrows knit.

Oh, that probably explains a lot. “Well, I mean, have you ever looked at someone and thought, ‘Hot damn I wanna fuck them’?” Relief is starting to soften the knot of anxiety in his chest.

Noctis crinkles his nose, “Gods, no.”

“Then congrats. You’re asexual.”

“Wait...this is normal? I’m not...I’m not broken or anything?” New hope dawns on Noctis’ face, and Prompto almost wants to cry. He had his own troubles figuring out his own sexuality, but now that that was over and done with, he feels compelled to help others.

“Yeah, buddy. Most people, when they see someone they like, they wanna, like, imagine them naked or something. Or fap to them. Or both. It’s usually both. But asexuals don’t feel that way.”

“O-oh. So...oh. So sexual attraction isn’t, like, a joke or something?”

Prompto bursts into laughter, much to Noctis’ embarrassment, “No, it’s not a joke. I promise it’s a real thing. Like, I feel that way to you. But if you don’t feel that way with me, then that’s the end of it. No sex.”

“Well, is kissing sexual? ‘Cause there are people I want to kiss, but, like, not you...Sorry.” 

Just as Prompto was starting to hold onto hope that they could still be together, Noctis had to pull this. He sighs, fighting against a sudden wave of exhaustion. “I mean, it can, but I think kissing would be more like romantic attraction. If… if you’re not romantically attracted to me, then… then we shouldn’t be together. You deserve someone you actually love.” The words hurt, coming out of his mouth, but he forces himself to say them. Noctis really does deserve love, even if Prompto’s not the one giving it.

“I-Oh. So… are you breaking up with me?” There’s a tinge of sadness in Noctis’, and Prompto hates himself for putting it there. But he knows Noctis will be happier with someone he is truly attracted to.

“Y-yeah. I...I guess I am. But… but we can still be friends, right?”

“Right. Of course. And...and I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For leading you along. For being...what I am.”

The words hit close to home, and Prompto has to work to contain a shudder. “Look. Please don’t apologize for who you are. Don’t apologize for not being attracted to me. I’m not apologizing for being attracted to you. It’s hardly a thing you can help. Just… just be happy, okay?”

The silence that stretches out is almost painful, and it takes Prompto a moment to realize that it’s because Noctis is trying to hold back tears. “But…” Noctis’ voice wavers, and he looks down in shame, “what if no one wants me ‘cause I don’t want sex? What if you’re my only option?”

Those thoughts are so similar to Prompto’s own that he blinks in shock. It’s even more jarring to hear them from the person he idolized for so long, from someone he thought flawless. As cruel as it may be, hearing those words from Noctis makes him feel a little better, a little less lonely.

“Trust me, you’re definitely boyfriend material. Super cute. And I won’t lie, there will be assholes there who will think you’re lying, that you haven't "found the right person" or whatever. They’re not worth your time. I am positive there is someone out there for you.”

Noctis leans against Prompto’s shoulder with a mumbled, “Thanks.” 

Prompto pats Noctis’ head lightly. “Yeah, no problem, buddy. And if you ever need me to kick someone’s ass, just say the word.” 

Noctis laughs again, the same laugh that Prompto fell in love with, and it makes his heart clench to think that he won’t be able to call Noctis his “boyfriend” anymore. He wants to be happy that Noctis will be with someone he loves, but it hurts so much that that  _ someone _ isn’t  _ him _ .

“Same here.”

Prompto laughs. “Thanks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! It was a lot of fun to write about this!


End file.
